A 

JOURNEY THROUGH 

Old Holland 

BYJ.d.DEGELDER 

H olland'AmepicaLme 
1913 



REMOVED TO 

21=24 STATE STREET, NEW YORK CITY 

New Telephone Number: Broad 2880 







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ILLUSTRATED WITH 
REPRODUCTIONS OF 
PAINTINGS AND DRAW- 
INGS BY OLD DUTCH 
MASTERS SELECTED 
BY THE AUTHOR, WHO 
ALSO DESIGNED THE 
ORNAMENTS, BORDERS 

and cover m m, m, m, 

HOLLAND-AMERICA 
LINE ROTTERDAM 
1913 




I 











A JOURNEY 

THROUGH OLD 

HOLLAND 

WRITTEN 
BY J. J. DE GELDER 

LITT. DOCTS. 

PUBLISHED 
BY W. L. & J. BRUSSE 
MDCCCCXIII FOR -THE 
HOLLAND-AMERICA 
LINE 




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NE EVENING IN SPRING-THE 

SNOWDROPS WERE BLOOMING IN A SNOW- 
COVERED FIELDS-IT HAPPENED THAT I HAD 
SAT READING FOR A LONG TIME IN OLD PA- 
pers, books and ships' logs. A friend of mine had dropped in, and we had 
fallen into a discussion over a certain Dutchman, named Jan Maertensz., 
mentioned as one of the first inhabitants of the small settlement of New- 
Amsterdam — the little colony well-known in the XVI Ith century as the 
alternating and contested possession of two sea-faring nations, and in our time 
better known as the small beginning from which the large and remarkable 
metropolis of New- York has grown— whether this Dutchman could have re- 
turned to the land of his forefathers, or whether he had possibly ended his days 
roaming the seas as merchant and skipper. W> For the chronicles state with 
certainty the following facts : When the English for the first time laid hands 
on the settlement, Jan Maertensz. at once abandoned both an assured living 
as well as those possessions he had won by dogged labour, and took ship, 
preferring a difficult existence in freedom to a peaceful one under foreign 
rulers. In his youth he had thought that his fortune was to be found on or 
across the sea. The endless rolling sea, where white sails rode in the distance, 
where mysterious voices spoke and laughed aloud in the wave-romping of the 
thudding, splashing breakers on the Dutch coast ; — the sea had aroused in him 
the desire to seek adventure across that wonderful waste. Nothing new, indeed, 
in his countrymen. Had not they always been the sons of the deep? Says not 
one of the songs of the Beggars of the Sea, the lays of those poor expelled 
men who valiantly fought for the freedom of our soil : "Through the wild 
waves they went, Like lions through the wood." W, Has not Holland seen its 
glory dawn on the seas ? Has not the sea brought Holland whatever treasures 
were discovered and carried home from distant climes, in small ships, amid 
constant dangers? Have not her sons more than those of any other land 
understood the sea, and how to find tracks on its great spaces, and how from 
wood and sail-cloth, with ingenuity and stubborn endeavour, to build up the 
beautiful works of art which their small ships were, with their high stems and 
graceful rigging and sails ? Were they not, from their youth, cradled in the lap 
of the waves, as our great XVIIth century poet, VONDEL, once sang? No 
wonder then that Jan Maertensz. could not resist the call of the sea. "A daring 
seaman" the old chronicles called him. §& Twilight had for an hour been 
shrouding all visible outlines in my room in grey shadow, when my friend left 

GiFT 
MRS. S. A .THOMPSON 
SEPT. 27. 1940 



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JAN VAN GOYEN f 1656. VIEW OF DORDRECHT. 



MAURITSHUIS. 



me. The room lay in silence, the noise of the day and all the vague sounds of 
labour in fields and roads ceased, and the glimmer of light died away, while I 
sat and mused in the midst of my folios and papers. I grew unconscious of my 
surroundings, and in my imagination the events I had been reading of were 
enacted again. I suddenly realised I was almost asleep, and as in the meantime, 
it had become late, and all the inmates of the house had retired to rest, I hastily 
undressed and went to bed. Wk> Tired as my brain was, I fell at once into a 
deep sleep, undisturbed by any dream-phantasies, till I got an undefined impres- 
sion of a bird, singing on a swaying branch. After that I saw the sea all around 
me, yet was I, at the same time, in a room with books, and then I suddenly 
remembered the twilight with all the white patches of the papers therein. 
Immediately afterwards I saw a man who kept beckoning to me, and I was 
conscious of a troubled sensation of wanting to go to him, and not being able 
to move my leaden feet. And then everything faded, and I remember nothing 
more till — as I thought — I was awakened by a gleam of light. Wk> I turned 
my half-closed eyes from right to left, and saw in the gloomy dawn, the rough, 
weather-beaten trunks of a row of trees, and I recognised the foliage of old 
elms, where they rocked above me against the cloudy sky. A smell of summer 
was wafted to my nostrils, bringing a sweet fragrance of freshly-mown 



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LIEVE VERSCHUIER f 1686. ROTTERDAM AND THE MAAS. BOYMANS-MUSEUM. 

meadows and of flowers. My feet lay considerably lower than my head ; and 
when, still only half conscious of where I was, I raised my head with the aid 
of my hands, I saw how the toes of my shoes were silhouetted like two black 
stumps against a background of waterside vegetation. By a break in the rushes 
that grew there, a few long blades waved against the shining whiteness, the 
reflection of a tremendous cloud-bank, in a dark, motionless sheet of water. I 
gazed with wide-awake eyes, and watched the cloud, hanging down, as it 
were, in an infinite depth, its great billowy outlines slowly changing form. 
Then I looked around. Facing me and about me was all green land. It stretched 
out to the far horizon, under the heavy, low, grey sky. W* Here and there 
in the hazy distance, a few small church-steeples stood out sharply from some 
dark patches of trees, and one or two grey or red roofs were set off gently 
against the green. It was a landscape such as can be seen everywhere in the 
flat region of western Holland. The moist fields spread a carpet of varying 
hues, dark and lighter, and very bright green as if flooded with the sun's yellow 
light, according to the longer or shorter time the mowers' scythes had done 



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A. v. OSTADE. f 1685. A COUNTRY-INN. PRINTROOM, STATE MUS. AMSTERDAM. 

their labour. On some parts of this gigantic carpet, the newly-cut hay stood 
drying in little heaps, set at regular intervals. And in the distance I saw a few 
men in large hats, raking together the long swathes of light-brown grass that 
lay as it had fallen under the sweep of the scythe. I drew up my knees and 
sat with my arms around them. The landscape with its far views fascinated 
me, and I was not in the least astonished that my shoes had such square toes 
and were adorned with grey silk rosettes ; and that the grey cloth breeches 
covering my knees, ended just under them with some grey bordering ; or that 
my calves were clad in dark grey silk stockings. There were wrinkles in them 
above my ankles, and I smoothed them out. W» Nor was I surprised to see 
beside me in the grass a black felt hat with a very broad brim — quite the 
breadth of two hand-palms — and a high crown shaped like a very large 
flower-pot, around which ran a narrow grey ribbon with a rosette. A light 
wind rustled through the trees, and broke the silence. The leaves stirred at the 
ends of the branches. This movement attracted my attention and roused me 
from my apathy. I sat up and passed my fingers a few times through my hair, 
which hung down to my shoulders in long, curling locks that had become badly 



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L. VERSCHUIER. ARRIVAL OF CHARLES II AT ROTTERDAM 1660. STATE MUS. 

entangled. I put my clothes in some order. The top of my dark grey jacket 
was undone and I buttoned it up. Next I smoothed out with my hand the flat 
linen collar, and brushed a few leaves from my sleeve. Then I picked up from 
the ground my black cloak that, rolled into a bundle, had served as a support 
for my head, and lifted my hat from out the grass. With arms akimbo, I gazed 
around in all directions. It was obvious that the slope on which I stood, was 
the incline of a high dyke, where, in former times, elm-trees had been planted. 
My glance followed the line of the trees which, on the right, were suddenly 
interrupted by a bend, while on the left, the trees curved round and continued 
down in the level. Wishing to see what lay beyond the top of the dyke, I 
walked with a few quick steps through the grass up the slope, and saw still 
more trees, their hoary and old stems bearing heavy green foliage — and then 
a grassy slope and down below a ditch and then again fields. Under the 
melancholy dark roof of leaves was a not very broad, miry road, furrowed 
with cart-ruts. Some doves were cooing, and now and then I heard the 
rustling of birds in the branches ; or the noise of the rattling of a hay-cart ; or 
of people calling in the fields. There appeared, round the bend of the avenue 
a man walking with great strides, his long cloak hanging down from one 
shoulder, in his hand a stout stick, which he planted forward energetically with 
every step. He wore his broad-brimmed hat at the back of his head. When 
he was close by, I saw that his sunburnt features bore traces of trouble and 
privation. A strong face, with a neck which, though bent, still bore witness to 



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JAN VAN GOYEN. VIEW OF DELFT. PRINTROOM IN THE STATE MUSEUM. 

the former pride with which it had stood on the broad shoulders. A short, 
grey beard under the somewhat large, clever nose, a broad forehead, arching 
over a pair of large orbits, and eyes which, under the big, bushy eyebrows, 
looked at the world with a quiet resignation and not without a certain humor. 
Such was the man's face. I had stopped, while observing him. On reaching me, 
he raised his left arm from under the hanging cloak, and tapped with his finger 
on his hatbrim by way of salutation. Wk> It was as if he expected me, and after 
some words of greeting, we walked on together. We spoke of indifferent 
subjects. I believe the weather was the first topic of conversation. In Holland, 
when one meets a stranger, what should one sooner speak of than the weather ? 
There is nothing the Hollanders take such a constant interest in, as in the state 
of the weather, farming polder-inhabitants and seafarers as they are. i& When 
we had walked in the avenue for a quarter of an hour, it seemed as if it were 
going to become lighter. And shortly after streaks of sunshine forced their 
way through the foliage, throwing some flecks of gold on the cart-ruts and 
grassy patches. The interest with which I listened to that voice, which seemed 
to speak to me from out of the distant past, was so intense that for some time 
I was not able to remove my glance for a moment from the face next to me, 
or to notice how the wind had risen. The green meadows down below shone 
in the sunlight, and the little ditch at the foot of the dyke reflected the blue 



sky, when now and then the wind ceased for a moment to blow over it. 
Gradually more life and animation crept over the scene. It was getting warmer. 
I found my cloak troublesome to carry, but the man beside me seemed to 
appreciate the sun. His brown skin made me think that he was used to 
warmer climes. "Are you tired already?" asked he, looking at me with a smile. 
I said that it was difficult walking along such untrodden paths. He did not 
understand what I meant. The road seemed easy enough for him, so bravely 
did he step out in his large, black shoes, which were dull, as if he had been 
walking since an early hour through dew-laden fields. A little farther on a 
break occurred in the line of old trees, and when we reached the opening, and 
emerged from under the leafy roof into the full light, we descended a gently 
sloping path to the level. It was like coming from the vault of a church into 
the open air. The path we entered was narrow, and at the sides high over- 
grown with all kinds of wild plants, from whose midst pollard-willows raised 
their bundles of slender branches and silvery foliage high aloft. The wind had 
chased apart the masses of cloud, sending them through the wide blue to other 
countries. And it romped through the branches, sometimes dashing boister- 
ously with a broad sweep through the rustling lane. W> We walked on to 
where the path ended — where stood a big white post, as if waiting for our 
arrival. "If the ferry-man can only hear us/' said my companion, "the wind 
is in our direction." We came to a broad river, splashing against the banks 
sparsely overgrown with rushes. Towards the west, on the left, the banks grew 
farther and farther apart, and opened into a large sheet of water running on 
in glistening lines under the sun-glare. In front of us, on the other side, 
stood on the bank a ferry-house. It was old and weather-beaten. Under a 
dilapidated thatched roof, near some ashtrees, it lay drowsing away the after- 
noon, and neither the large cross-barred window, nor any of the smaller ones 
with their heavy woodwork and deep-lying panes, showed any sign of life. 
Nor was there any to be seen in the open half of the door, likewise set between 
heavy posts, under a penthouse roof. W& The silent fellow beside me watched 
for some movement, and seeing none, violently rang the bell dangling on the 
post. A man appeared at the door opening, and made a sign that he had seen 
us. He came outside and descended a few steps to the water, where lay a small 
boat, which he presently rowed through the dancing waves with long strokes 
of his oars. It came floating quickly to the side where we stood, and we left 
the bank. In the middle of the river, unfolding itself before my eyes, appeared 
the view of a town, before which moved small ships with bellying sails, and 
the gates and houses of which could be quite easily distinguished. And when 
a large church-roof and a heavy square tower, rearing themselves above the 
multitude of red roofs, became visible, I recognised DORDRECHT. In the 
meantime the ferry-house had been completely shaken from its doze by the 
arrival of a couple of carts. They both had high back-wheels and smaller front 



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H. VAN VLIETf 1675. DELFT; INTERIOR OF THE "OUDEKERK". MAURITSHUIS. 

ones, and sloped up high towards the rear. In one sat some men and women, 
who were talkative and merry. The other was covered with a large canopy, 
and what was under it, I could not see. Having landed on the opposite bank, 



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D. VAN DELEN f 1671. DELFT; TOMB OF WILLIAM I. STATE MUSEUM. 

we paid the ferry-man, and continued our way, which led us past the carts 
now standing still, the horses feeding from oat-troughs which had meanwhile 
been made ready ; while a few men on horseback were enjoying a can of 
beer. The people in the cart were noisy. They shouted jeeringly at us, but I 
could not understand them. Evidently they were peasants. Most of the men 
wore caps ; a few hats. Their jackets were of a dark coloured stuff, and 
distinctly showed signs of exposure to sun and rain. The women's heads were 
covered with small white caps. M, The road led us along a new dyke, and it 
seemed to me that I had seen the place before. While I was walking along, 
pondering over this, my travelling-companion said, ''Now we are on the 
KINDERDYK." Surprised I looked up, and turned my head in all directions. 
How completely different from the district as I knew it ! Where were the 
wharves with their gigantic scaffoldings, their large buildings and untidy yards 
full of lumber ? Where was the angry thud and clatter of steam-hammers and 
all the din and noise with which the labour on thirty important ship-yards 
building machinery, dredging-machines and ships for all parts of the world now 
fills the air? A gusty wind tugged at our large hats and made our cloaks flap 
about. This, and the rustling of the rushes, was the only noise we heard, while 




AELBERT CUYP f 1691. CATTLE NEAR A FARM. STATE MUSEUM, AMSTERDAM. 



walking quickly on through the wide solitude. W> A vague astonishment had 
overmastered me, as I observed all this. Yet it was as if the words that seemed 
best adapted to the occasion always came to me. "The road is still long enough 
for us not to make such haste at the beginning," said I. "Forgive me," said he, 
"that I have not once asked you if you can keep up with my steps. My feet, 
which have not trodden this land for so long, are like fiery horses which have 
been too long in the stable," and walking more slowly, he added, "perhaps 
you are less accustomed to walking than I." "Where do you hail from ?" asked 
I. "Now I am coming from Zeeland — but I lived most of my life in the Isle 
of Manhattan. I do not know if you have ever heard of New-Amsterdam : 
it was there I was a merchant." "When the English came" — "you left there," 
I interrupted. "As you say, sir. If Stuyvesant had had his way, we should have 
managed to hold our own — but after that inglorious surrender — " "Jan 
Maertensz. chose the open sea," said I. He looked at me. "How do you know 
me ?" he said in a somewhat lower tone. "Jan Maertensz.," said I, "your love 
of freedom is well-known to many in this country, and also that you are a 



daring seaman and a good merchant." We kept on talking, now about his 
adventures, then on what he asked me concerning the country, and sometimes 
about myself. "How strange that you should know me," he said, "you, whom 
I have never met before — and that you should be acquainted with so many 
things that no one would believe were known." The hours seemed to melt 
into one moment. The sun was setting, the day had settled down to rest. Again 
I see how, on a quiet evening in a dim roseate light, I was rowed across a 
broad river, where lay ships with stately stems and masts full of sails and 
tackling, and all sorts of smaller vessels, a swarm of various highly picturesque 
shapes on the reflecting water. Oh, wonderful vision of olden times, when 
ROTTERDAM was called Holland's second merchant city, and the old river 
Maas glided between green borders ! Rotterdam in repose ! The water of the 
Maas not churned and stirred up through a multitude of bustling small steam- 
ers and large ones. No gigantic cargo and mailboats, compared with whose 
high iron sides, the wooden ships of our forefathers looked like children's 
playthings, and a single one of which can carry cargoes many times larger than 
all the ships together in which the merchant city then used to import her 
wares from far-off regions. No shrieking of steam-whistles and sirens. No 
unbridled hurry and endless toiling of machinery and men. On the quays along 
the waterside, no rumbling in of heavily-laden drays. No bridges connecting 
the banks with large iron spans from distance to distance. And on those banks 
not the large houses, offices, sheds, factories and chimneys ; no smoke and no 
steam. Where in the world can the stranger receive a more overwhelming 
impression of the greatness of commercial and shipping traffic of a modern 
merchant city, and where will he sooner learn to realize its beauty, than when 
taking a stroll along the BOOMPJES in Rotterdam, and watching the activity 
on the restless water of the wide stream under the Dutch sky ? M» There was 
nothing of all this yet. A wonderful, solemn silence reigned everywhere : dark 
trees at the waterside, above which peeped pointed gable-roofs, the tapering 
turrets on the gates, and the sails of a few windmills. And then St.-Laurens' 
tower reared its heavy square silhouette in the quiet evening air, like a strong 
guardian, far above all its surroundings. Aloft its chimes sounded the flight 
of time, and the bells of the celebrated founder HEMONY, had for many 
years let fall their tones like liquid drops of sound on the town. 1& Just before 
the closing of the gates, we entered through one of them, and I presently 
found myself under the secure roof of a tavern, where my companion had 
brought me. I still remember how before me was borne a lantern dangling 
on the arm of a serving-man, and throwing dancing lights on white walls and 
dark portals, and that my room was a high apartment, in which a bed with 
clean linen, shadowed by dark curtains, awaited me, and then I recollect 
nothing more. Until I found myself walking with my friend in the morning sun 
along Rotterdam's streets and canals, completely lined with fine dwellings and 



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JOHANNES VERMEER f 1675. OLD HOUSES. COLLECTION SIX. AMSTERDAM. 



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JACOB ESSELENS f 1687. ON THE BEACH. STATE MUSEUM, AMSTERDAM. 

warehouses. Jan Maertensz. led me into ST.-LAURENS' CHURCH. We 
lingered long in its beautiful Gothic interior. Jan Maertensz. walked with his 
eyes bent on the ground. I paced on at his side, but took no notice of what 
he did. At the mausoleums of Admirals Witte de With and Kortenaer we 
stopped, and while observing them attentively, and reading the Latin inscrip- 
tion on the former, and the terse verse on the latter, I noticed that he had 
walked on, as if looking for something. I hastened to him, just as he stopped 
with a peculiar, melancholy expression on his rugged face. And he pointed to 
a square stone let into the floor of the church, marked with letters and figures 
which I did not understand. "Here it is," said he, muttering to himself. I 
looked, but said no word. Touched by the seriousness that came over him, I 
watched him. And when we had both stood silent for a while, there resounded 
suddenly behind a high pew the shrill sound of children's voices, and disturbed 
our musings. Jan Maertensz. turned from the spot and walked round behind 
the choir, closely followed by me, past boys playing with spinning-tops be- 
tween the grey columns, through a dark doorway into the open. Then he 
stopped. He had been out that morning, he said, and had made inquiries as to 
whether his father or mother were still alive — "but all my relations who used 
to live here, are dead." His mother's tomb was in the church, but he had heard 



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JAN v. d. HEYDEN f 1712. IN THE COUNTRY. BUCKINGHAM PALACE. LONDON. 

that other members of his family resided in Amsterdam, and there was nothing 
more to keep him here. "So you are going to Amsterdam?" "Yes," said he, 
"and I want to see Holland once again before I die." "Jan Maertensz," I 
exclaimed, "let me accompany you. Show me this beautiful country." "From 
whence come you," he answered, "who speak the Dutch language, and do 
not know the country, yet are aware that it is beautiful, and are learned of 
things that I have never heard of?" Without thinking I answered, "Jan 
Maertensz., I have spent my life with books and seen little more than the 
walls of my room, and the grounds of my house surrounded by the grassy 
fields of a remote polder, whose dyke J, have seldom crossed. So I know the 
country only from what I have read and heard. Now I want to see it with 
my own eyes; let me travel with you." "Friend," said he, "so be it; we shall 
go together." Then we turned from the grey walls of the church. We passed 
the HARINGVLIET, where war-ships lay moored, with grim cannon-mouths 
gaping from wooden portholes. The Admiralty of the Maas had its offices 
here, and on its wharves were built numbers of battle-ships, necessary for the 
frequent wars in which the Republic had to defend herself. Here it was de 
Ruyter's flag-ship The Seven Provinces was launched. Further I saw some- 
where in a street, the wooden gable of the house in which ERASMUS was 
born, and his bronze statue by Hendrik de Keyzer stood where it still stands 
now. We were shown the stately building used as a meeting-place by those 



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who were entrusted with the control over the dykes and waters of the district 
called Schieland — now the home of a beautiful collection of old-Dutch paint- 
ings, the MUSEUM BOYMANS. m, Rotterdam never was a cradle of 
painters. But few were born and bred within its walls. PIETER DE HOOGH, 
who spent his youth and the early part of his career here, is about the greatest. 
W> At last we came to where, in a quiet, shady little canal a boat lay along- 
side. At once I recognised by its shape, the old-Dutch towing-barge. We 
stepped in, and after a few more men had entered the cosy cabin through the 
tiny door, a bell was rung, and the barge was poled outside the ramparts by 
the skipper and his assistant. There a boy was waiting with a horse. A line 
was thrown to him, which he attached to the harness. Then he hoisted himself 
on to the horse's back, and sitting with both legs on one side, cried, "hu" (go 
on). The ancient quadruped plodded forward, and shortly after, whirr, the 
line shot out of the water ; all this to the accompaniment of a great deal of 
shouting to and fro. Then on we went into Old Holland ! It opened out with 
rich meadows filled with beautiful cattle, for which even now the districts 
round Rotterdam and Delft are famed. Gliding along the Schie, through the 
sunny country, huge clouds sailing across the blue sky, and throwing floating 
streaks of shadow, I sat on a small seat near the skipper at the rudder, in 
enjoyment of it all. "Holland's welfare," said he, "is shown in these- fine 
beasts." While he constantly kept a watchful eye on the line and the old 
horse, we fell to chatting. "Why do you not prefer sailing ?" said I, "then you 
could do without that horse." "You might think so," he cried, "if the wind 
always blew where I wanted it to ! No, for the horse-drawn barges the wind 
is nought. How could we maintain a regular service ? This way is quick and 
sure. The Gentlemen (he meant the government of the country) also do much 
to make it easy for the barges. Just think how the valuable tow-path was laid 
down from Gouda to Utrecht along the old Rhine. What a number of bridges 
had to be built. That is now a great many years ago. And it has cost a lot 
of money, I can tell you!" "That may be," here interrupted a fellow-pas- 
senger, who sat nearest the door in the deck-house, and had heard what the 
skipper had said, "but if it is to their advantage they compel you to make an 
unnecessary round-about way, and impede the traffic as much as they can. 
To give you an example : whoever journeys from Rotterdam to Amsterdam, 
must go round by Gouda and take his barge through the town. He is also 
liable to lose a whole day, because the floodgates of the lock move so slowly. 
And that while there is a good broad lock in another canal just near. In this 
way the traffic through Holland is impeded, and what for ? To enable Gouda 
to levy its tolls." "Aye, aye," said the skipper, "that is true, I must admit!" 
"And won't that be put a stop to?" asked I. "What shall I say, sir," said 
the skipper, "that is a question of old rights of the towns, which are allowed * 
to levy tolls on those canals. As far as we skippers are concerned, they may 




QUIRYN BREKELENKAM f 1668. IN A TAILORS WORKSHOP. STATE MUSEUM. 



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MEINDERT HOBBEMA tfl709. A FARMYARD. STATE MUSEUM, AMSTERDAM. 

be abolished to-morrow." W> Thus we kept on talking about different 
things — till the boat lay along-side the bank at DELFT. Jan Maertensz. left 
the small deck-house, and I my seat, and we quitted the barge. "Now first 
to a tavern," said Jan Maertensz. We walked along the harbour-side, and 
went through the doorway and the passage to the large yard at the back of 
an old tavern. A woman brought us a pewter plate of herrings, and some 
large chunks of bread, together with the famous cool Delft beer, which was 
poured out from a heavy earthenware jug. With a handful of cherries we 
finished our repast. Soon I was able to gratify my desires, and feast my eyes 
on the beauties of the old town. We went along, past many a characteristic 
building spared from the great fire of 1563, and the explosion of the gunpowder- 
ship in 1654. In that disaster the promising young painter, CAREL FABRI- 
TIUS, a pupil of Rembrandt's, lost his life. Michiel Jansz. van MIEREVELT, 
the painter of so many Princes of Orange and other well-known persons, was 
already dead, and Fate left alive JOHANNES VERMEER, whose pictures 
so delight us, his descendants, with their radiant depth of colouring and 
delicate portrayal of light. W* Of the glorious past when Holland suffered and 



L5^35tAS333A^sxeje^^^^^^^^e^^^ 




JAN VAN GOYEN. 



VIEW OF LEYDEN. 



MUNICIPAL MUSEUM, LEYDEN. 



fought, Delft preserves very interesting memories. Jan Maertensz. expressed 
a desire to see PRINCE WILLIAM'S tomb. So we went into the New 
Church by the Groote Markt, where the founder of our independence, called 
by his people Father of the Fatherland, reposes in a mausoleum, very artisti- 
cally executed by the sculptor, HENDRIK DE KEYZER, at the expense of 
the United Provinces. How imposingly it still stands in the sanctity of those 
Gothic vaults ! We passed out of the church and along the Old Delft, where 
stands the Old Church with its large, beautiful tower. In this church repose 
Holland's celebrated admirals, BESTEVAER TROMP, and PIET HEIN, 
of whom the folk-song merrily sings, "he has captured the silver fleet." This 
happened in 1628, and, indeed, in the twelve million florins in silver that he 
took from the Spaniards, he procured a good gain for Holland. In a certain part 
of Rotterdam, formerly the small town of DELFSHAVEN, where he was born 
stands his statue, in which, however, you will be less interested than in the fact 
that here, before their departure to America in 1620, the Pelgrim-Fathers held 
their last divine service on European soil. We saw his monument in the church, 
and Tromp's monumental tomb, the work of three artists, the architect Jacob 
van Campen, the sculptors Rombout Verhulst and Willem de Keijzer. We saw 



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PAULUS POTTER f 1654 MEADOW IN THE MORNING. 



STATE MUSEUM. 



the beautiful Town-Hall, built by H. de Keijzer, the house of the "Water- 
schap of Delfland" and many more splendid gabled structures of the 16th and 
17th century style of building, both on the Old Delft, with its typical one- 
arched stone bridges, and along other canals and streets. For instance the old 
PRINSENHOF, a former convent fitted up as a royal residence, where the 
Father of the Fatherland lost his life by assassination. You are still shown the 
place where he fell, invoking God's mercy for the fate of his poor people. 
Besides this, Delft can boast of the fact that the founder of the international 
law, HUGO DE GROOT, was born within its walls. His tomb, too, is in 
one of the Delft churches. W, No greater contrast could be conceived nowa- 
days than that existing between toiling Rotterdam resounding with the noise 




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V, 



I AN VICTORS f ABOUT 1676. A GREENGROCER'S SHOP. STATE MUSEUM. 

of labour, and the dignified, reposeful little town, with its narrow and shady- 
canals, lying amidst green fields, and seeming to dream only of the past. How- 
ever, in the days of Jan Maertensz., things were different. Everywhere one 
saw potteries, where the celebrated Delft blue and polychrome china and 
earthenware was made. The blue with its deep colour and splendid material, 
the secret of which is lost ; the polychrome with its yellow and brown and 
green tints among the blue. §& When we had sufficiently feasted our eyes on 
this ancient little town, we walked, while the sun was setting, to the charming 
village of RYSWYK. We went across a wooden bridge, through dark, shady 
streets and lanes, and I was too absorbed to notice whether I could see the 
country-seat which the Stadtholder Frederik Hendrik had had built here, and 
which was to become celebrated in 1697, when after endless ceremonies, the 
ambassadors who concluded the peace between le Roi Soleil and England, 



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LUDOLF BAKHUYSEN f 1708. THE "HAARLEMMER MEER". STATE MUSEUM. 

Spain and the Low Countries, were housed there. We turned into the road 
to the Hague — it was an avenue planted with elms and oaks, where many 
a state-coach drawn by four horses passed us in stately procession ; where 
horsemen in long cloaks and with gaudy ostrich-feathers waving on their large 
shaggy hats, galoped on fiery steeds ; where dignified citizens, male and female, 
wrapped in cloak and shawl, walked, chatting quietly. In the orange-coloured 
light of the evening sun, the masses of foliage on the trees stood out darkly 
against the sky and, in this powder-like gold, that procession moved on, full 
of grace and soft-coloured splendour. A light dew rose over the fields along 
the road — the moist atmosphere was fragrant with the scent of the leaves. 
l$k> After half an hour we entered THE HAGUE across a drawbridge. A 
town without ramparts ! The largest and most beautiful village in the world 
foreigners called it, being surrounded only by a wide moat. It lay as it were 
in a wreath of delightful country-seats and mansions. On the morning of the 
following day — we had spent the night in a good inn — I found Jan Maer- 
tensz. in a cheerful, sun-drenched room, at an early hour, talking with the 
host, while waiting for breakfast. On an oaken table with heavy legs, whose 



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J. VAN RUISDAEL f 1682. HAARLEM SEEN FROM THE DUNES. MAURITSHUIS. 

board was laid with a clean white cloth, stood a goodly quantity of tasty 
bread, a can of beer, a jug with fresh milk, warm from the cow, a piece of 
Leyden cheese and golden butter, with everything else wanted with it. The 
floor was strewn with fine sand, over which our feet scraped- It all looked 
very clean and cosy : the white walls on which some large and small pictures 
in dull-polished ebony frames stood out boldly ; the small cupboard painted a 
pale red, with a door in which vertical holes had been sawn out, in order to 
give fresh air to the bread and eatables kept in it ; on top of the cupboard a 
couple of pewter mugs and a can, shining like silver, beside a little tree with 
some oranges among its olive-green leaves — it was a pleasure to look around. 
Everything bore testimony to the old-Dutch cleanliness of the housewife, as 
well as to her inborn instinct for colour-effects. There was nothing ugly and 
nothing superfluous — in which, methought, lay the secret of the never 
flagging charm and of the restfulness prevailing in this simple room. After 
enjoying our meal, we left, in order to take a stroll through the town. We 
came to a market-place where stood a large church with a high hexagonal 
tower. Recognising the big Gothic ST. JACOBS-CHURCH, I wished to go 
into it at once, but had to wait for Jan Maertensz., who had taken a fancy 



O3^^^33^333333331^ttf^lt^i^LC^^^0j 




G. BERCKHEYDE. HAARLEM. CATHEDRAL AND SHAMBLES. LONDON. NAT. GALL. 

to go to the fish-market, where servant-girls, with brass pails on their arms, 
and also the housewives themselves, were making their purchases. Jan Maer- 
tensz. was dividing his attention between the fine fish and the servant-girls, 
but at last we entered the church, and saw the white, marble tomb of Admiral 
van Wassenaer of Obdam, the painted windows, and an old pulpit. We did 
not linger here. The chimes— composed of thirty-eight bells— were rung aloft 
in the tower, the height of which, we afterwards learnt, was, according to our 
modern measurement, 325 feet. Our attention was next claimed by the remark- 
able architecture of the period in which the Dutch style of building originated, 
exemplified in the beautiful Town-Hall, until my contemplations were disturbed 
by the appearance of a heavy state-carriage, on which was seated a gorgeously 
apparelled coachman behind four horses. It was occupied by a gentleman in 
a full powdered wig, handsomely arrayed in violet velvet ; a white lace lappet 
falling under his ruddy, dignified countenance ; his hands sticking out from 



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JACOB VAN RUISDAEL f 1682. THE DUNES. MUNICIPAL MUSEUM, HAARLEM 

white lace ruffles and resting on the gold hilt of a sword between his knees. 
"Who is that gentleman?" I asked Jan Maertensz. And he told me that, though 
he was not certain, he believed him to be one of the many diplomats or ambas- 
sadors of whom the Hague was always full. For this town, you must under- 
stand, was one of the head-quarters of European diplomatists. We then came 
to the BUITENHOF, in which I observed some houses bearing the coats of 
arms of the towns of Leyden, Enkhuizen and Alkmaar. These, Jan Maertensz. 
informed me, were occupied by delegates sent by those towns to the States 
of Holland. I afterwards noticed other houses set apart in this manner for the 
occupation of emissaries of other towns. We crossed a green to the battle- 
mented wall built on the Vyver-side. The water of the VYVER (lake) lay 
like a smiling pale blue field under the blue summer sky, and studded by bright 






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C. DE DECKER f 1678. THE WEAVER AT HIS LOOM. STATE MUS. AMSTERDAM. 

sparks of sunlight, it looked like something very young and frolicsome amidst 
all those venerable grey houses and towers, silent witnesses to so many hap- 
penings. For this is the oldest part of the town, the part where Holland had 
her seat of government, as she has now. It was here that, in ancient times, the 
Counts of Holland built their castle, held court and erected a large banqueting- 
hall, in the midst of the wood. Encircling the grounds on which the lordly 
castle and the buildings belonging to it stood, a moat was dug. In close proxi- 
mity to these grounds the Vyver was laid out, and in it I saw an islet where 
quacking ducks and white swans had their home. Jan Maertensz. told me that 

3 the Stadtholder resided in the buildings between the Buiten- and Binnenhof, 
for which reason we could not cross the bridge that gave admittance on this 
side. So we had to go round along the moat to the Southside, where a 
narrow bridge and a small gateway led to the only partly paved courtyard 



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JOB BERCKHEYDE f 1693. HAARLEM, SAINT BAVO CATHEDRAL. STATE MUS. 

of the Binnenhof, which, on this side, was planted with a row of trees. There 
we stood before the celebrated Knights' Hall! Reader, do you know the 
splendid HALL OF THE KNIGHTS? It is a monument well worth your 
attention, and not only because the international peace-conference was 
held there in 1907. The large pointed gable front with its fine rose- window, 
and the two slender turrets on either side, are magnificent ; but such things 
could be built everywhere. The real beauty of the architecture lies in the roof 
with its slates glistening as it rears itself in the air. The absence of a single 
column in the interior will strike your attention immediately on entering the 
hall ; — the spacious, lofty and airy ceiling ; all those heavy beams, so in- 
geniously fitted into one unmovable whole, and supported only by side-walls 
nearly 5 feet in thickness — that is what calls forth your involuntary admira- 
tion. §& In our days of iron structures it is not so difficult to span so large a 
space with a roof unsupported by columns or stays, but in the 13 th century 



JAN VICTORS f ABOUT 1676. THE PORK BUTCHER. STATE MUS. AMSTERDAM. 

conceiving a wooden ceiling like this with a free span of nearly 58 ft. and a 
height of 60 ft. from wall to coping, over a hall 123 ft. in length — was a bold 
thought, and executing this, was great. Only to procure the heavy oak, they 
had to seek far and wide for trees, even journeying over the sea, we are told, 
as far as Ireland. But when I stood in front of the hall with Jan Maertensz. 
there was not much left to be seen of the fine building, enclosed as it was on 
all sides by later additions. I derived but little pleasure from its view, noticing 
how the whole front, between the two corner-turrets, was hidden by a large 
high building with a slanting roof, above which nothing was visible but some 
old brickwork and a small part of the rose-window in the wall. The turrets 
had quaint 1 6 fc h century spires, and in one of them was a clock. In company 
with many other people we entered, and found ourselves beneath the large 
raftered ceiling of the hall where, against the old dark beams, hung time- 
worn and bullet-riddled flags — trophies won in the wars of the Republic — 







G. v. d. EECKHOUT f 1674. ARTIST SKETCHING. PRINTROOM, AMSTERDAM. 

forming a variety of colour. Looking round, I saw that some of the windows 
beneath these had been blocked up. Along the entire length of the hall wooden 
stalls had been erected, in which many vendors of books and engravings were 
exhibiting their wares ; while visitors incessantly passed in and out — strangers 
buying prints with views of the town as mementos ; boys looking for coarse 
one-cent wood-cut prints ; young men for old song-books, in fact, anything 
one wished was to be got here. "Jan Maertensz.," I said, "let us get away 
from this." §& We sallied forth, and left the Binnenhof through the Maurits- 
gate and across a bridge. Of all those bridges you will now find nothing left, 
stranger, and the moat surrounding the Binnenhof has, alas ! been entirely 
filled up, although it can still be traced in a small passage separating the 
Mauritshuis from the houses of the Binnenhof. §& On the right, at the corner 
of the Hofvyver stood a building of stately architecture. The Mauritshuis, I 
muttered. "Yes," said Jan Maertensz., "this is the house of Johan Maurits 
of Nassau, at one time governor of the Brazils." It looked very much like 



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GERRIT BERCKHEYDE f 1698. AMSTERDAM. THE TOWN-HALL. STATE MUS. 

the building we know as the home of the renowned collection of paintings 
originating from that of Prince William V of Orange. Continuing our walk 
we entered the PLEIN, the former garden of the lordly old castle, and since 
converted into a green planted with lime-trees, and cut through cross-wise by 
two Flemish-brick roads. This green was surrounded by a number of large 
houses, among which were the official town-residences of the States-General 
representatives from Amsterdam and Rotterdam. These buildings — particu- 
lary the former, which is still in a perfect state of preservation — * impressed 
us with their dignified grey stone fronts. Here also stood the house of Con- 
stantyn Huygens, the famous secretary of three generations of Princes of 
Orange. §& On the Plein elm-trees grow where limes once flourished, the 
green is now paved, while the centre space is taken up by the large, bronze 
statue of Prince William I. M> Through the Korte Poten, where were shops, 
along the banks of the fashionable Heerengracht (now filled up), we reached the 
Koekamp, a deer park forming the beginning of the famous FOREST. For 
in olden times The Hague was already celebrated. for its forest. When money 
was badly wanted in 1576, to carry on the war with Spain, the Prince of 
Orange proposed to have the wood cut down and to sell the timber and the 
land. And now it became manifest what value the small place set upon its 



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8 



EM. DE WITTE f 1692. DE RUYTER'S TOMB IN THE NEW CHURCH. STATE MUS. 

wood. It paid a large sum of money and actually sacrificed the heavy bells 
that had rung at the church-festivals — to be melted down into cannon — , 
to prevent the proposal from being carried into effect 1& By this means they 
retained the wood, covering an area of more than two square miles, with 
its delightful old trees and fine sheets of water — still constituting one of the 
chief attractions of the town. W> On we proceeded along the Maliebaan and 
the old waggon-road to Leyden, between avenues of high beeches and brush- 
wood, and came to the summer-residence which Prince Frederik Hendrik had 
built for his consort at the end of the Wood. Planned by the celebrated 
Amsterdam architect, Jacob van Campen, it was surrounded by wonderful 
gardens, laid out in all kinds of geometrical designs ; with clipped hedges, and 
trees trimmed into different shapes ; summer-houses and all those quaint diver- 
sions which afforded our forefathers such delight. Before the completion of the 
castle, the Prince died, and, in honour of her husband, the Princess had the 
octagonal ORANGE-HALL with its cupola, lined with pictures. For this pur- 



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J. BERCKHEYDE. AMSTERDAM. INTERIOR OF THE EXCHANGE. STATE MUS. 

pose several Dutch and Flemish artists, among whom Jacob Jordaens, were 
set to work, the greatest Dutch painters of the period being passed over — 
they simply preferred the work of the Flemish school, whose grand-master 
Rubens moreover found an ardent admirer in Frederik Hendrik. 1& Returning 
to the town, we entered the alleys of the famous VOORHOUT, shadowed 
by ubiquitous lime-trees. It included a promenade inside a wooden enclosure, 
and outside this ran a paved street. In the afternoon and especially after 
church attendance on Sundays, it was often full of life and movement. Dashing 
state-carriages would follow one another gracefully round the fenced-in pro- 
menade, where the spectators eager to obtain glimpses of the great personages 
would often jostle each other in their efforts to see them as they performed 
the "tour a la mode" prescribed by the etiquette of the day. M> The tour a la 
mode, the grand equipages, the powdered wigs *— all this has long since 
vanished — and a fashionable repose prevails under the old lime-trees. Near 
by you may now see the stately front of the celebrated ROYAL LIBRARY, 






■9A^^5i33A^^5L^M££j^j^e^^je^^Ce^^ 




J. BERCKHEYDE. "OUDEZIJDS HEERENLOGEMENT". AMSTERDAM. STATE MUS. 

which, besides containing more than half a million volumes, can boast of 
a rare collection of manuscripts, and coins, medals and cameos, and a delight- 
fully large and quiet reading-room. §& We continued our way past the 
Kloosterkerk, along the old Hof, now the ROYAL PALACE, on the 
Noordeinde, and, crossing a drawbridge, we soon found ourselves outside the 
town boundaries. The road we now turned into was new, having been con- 
structed not very long ago in 1668, after the designs and on the initiative 
of the secretary of the Prince of Orange, Constantyn Huygens. This NEW 
ZEESTRAAT, as the OLD SCHEVENINGEN ROAD was then called, 
led right across the barren sand of the downs. As a reward for this work, 
which called forth universal admiration, the States of Holland had granted 
the town the right to place a turnpike-gate at the beginning of the road. 
Who does not know that turnpike-gate, still standing at the entrance of 
that magnificent avenue more than two miles in length? But now no one is 
required to pay the toll that we handed the gate-keeper on entering, two 
farthings each for going through and back again. Under the now heavy foliage, 



03i3l3L3iA3t3£ia2l3L3a^ 





GERRITBERCKHEYDE. AMSTERDAM.THE "HEERENGRACHT". STATE MUSEUM. 

no one will feel the sunshine that shone on Jan Maertensz. and myself between 
the rows of the then fairly young trees. On one side the road was hedged in 
by low brushwood, on the other lay the country-seat SORGHVLIET. We 
could not see the house — but descriptions of it mention ponds, fountains,, 
grottos, gardens, orchards, terraces, plantations and a conservatory — so that 
it was undoubtedly situated in real pleasure-grounds. This site is now occupied 
by the PEACE PALACE, a monument of American liberality and love of 
civilization, in commemoration of a first attempt to substitute well-weighed 
laws for brute force, by which the international character of The Hague, which 
it has enjoyed since the days of Prince Frederik Hendrik, becomes of an entire- 
ly new significance. SCHEVENINGEN. He who now gazes on the world- 
famous watering-place with its pier, its sea-walls, its esplanades, and its sands,, 
all thronged with people, can hardly picture it as a mere cluster of cottages — 
a village by a church in the dunes. Jan Maertensz. and myself threaded our 



5l53 iIX9i3iX3L3 \£L££Jt£L£&££fc 




G. BERCKHEYDE f 1698. AMSTERDAM. THE "NIEUWE KERK". STATE MUSEUM. 

way through the straggling place, with its cottages scattered broadcast, and, 
past the church, and through the loose hot sand burning in the sunshine, 
reached the shore. The sea lay before us like a blue infinity. Across the lonely 
stretch of yellow sand, a coach slowly travelled along the line of the white- 
crested waves, the horses treading heavily in the wet sand. "The sea is beauti- 
ful," said I. "Aye, when I was young, and listened to tales of the sea and of 
all the foreign countries beyond it where riches could be won, I, too, thought 
it beautiful," said fan Maertensz. ironically. "But I think the sea beautiful in 

itself," said I, "for I like to hear it murmur and see its swelling waves " Jan 

Maertensz. had left my side. He was talking to a fisherman who had spread 
out his haul on the sand. This man did not think the sea beautiful — he liked it 
only for the haul and the profit it brought him, in which opinion most of his 
contemporaries concurred. The sea as a natural power could awe most of them 



L3&3t3L9i3^9iaa3^ 




JAN VAN DER HEYDEN. THE "WESTERKERK". WALLACE COLL. LONDON. 

only by its immense force, and I do not think any one of them ever thought 
consciously of a likeness between the stormy passions of the human heart and 
the wild waves, or else he must have been a great poet. In the old pictures of 
sea-coast life, the effect aimed at was chiefly got from the figures, carts, and 
ships, and an impression of space. W> Some hours later, having returned to the 
town along the same Zeestraat, we strolled into the PLAATS, where (even 
now) stands the GEVANGENPOORT (Prison-gate), that gloomy building 
in which justice was administered. You may praise XVI Ith century Holland 
for whatever you like — it has much that is beautiful and good — but let us 
pass over the administration of the law, and remember only that nowhere 
else was it any better. Well, we did not think of going through the gate and 
across the threshold of the prison — the guard would surely have stopped 
us. For, stranger of the 20* century honouring this place with your cheerful 
and worldly presence in order to see the torturing-implements of the law — - 
those implements were still in use. So we directed our steps towards the lime- 
tree avenues on the LANGE VYVERBERG, and saw the buildings of the 



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REMBRANDT f 1669. SUNSHINE BEFORE A THUNDERSTORM. STATE MUSEUM. 

Binnenhof, lying on the other side of the water. I asked Jan Maertensz. what 
those buildings were used for. "That I shall tell you, friend," he said turning 
round. And indicating them with his stout stick from right to left he explained, 
"In the building at the corner near the Buitenhof, the States of Holland have 
their sittings ; beside it stands the Royal Chapel, and next in order to that 
comes the building in which the States General hold their sessions. Last of all 
you will see at the farthest end, the Privy Council meeting-house." "Oh look !" 
I exclaimed, recognising a small octagonal turreted tower near the Maurits- 
huis. "I do not know what it is used for," said Jan Maertensz. "That," I 
replied, "was in the days of the Counts, a little summer-retreat commanding 
a view, across the water, of the castle grounds. As early as the XVth century 
it was built out from the thick wall at the corner of the castle-moat and the 
Vyver. This wall ran around the moat and along the banks of the lake, shutting 
off the whole of the Binnenhof". "You evidently know more about it than I 
do, sir," said Jan Maertensz. looking at me with an astonished smile. "I read 
it in my books, Jan Maertensz." "That may be, but I am surprised that you 



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ANTHONIE VAN BORSSOM f 1677. A BOAT^SLIDE. PRINTROOM AMSTERDAM. 

should know so much of such ancient times, yet are not acquainted with things 
of to-day." M> I mused on as if no words had been exchanged between us, 
and little talkative as my companion was, he did not seem to await any answer 
of mine to his observation. Arrived at the end of the Lange Vyverberg, we 
stood before a broad gabled front with a high "stoep" having flights of steps 
on either side — this was the Nieuwe Doelen of the citizen-musketeers. Doelen 
the buildings are called where the citizen-soldiers could practise shooting at a 
Doel (target) of which several put side by side gave the name of Doelen to 
the whole place. In the large halls of those buildings, then found in most Dutch 
towns, citizen-soldiers held their festive meetings — at which liberal banquets 
were given, where their light-hearted laughter resounded from the walls. These 
walls were covered with large pictures— their own portraits— painted by many 
of our best artists. At The Hague Jan van Ravesteyn was the principal painter 
of the citizen-soldiers, and in the building of this Nieuwe Doelen — now the 
MUNICIPAL MUSEUM — are still kept many of his best canvases. An- 
other building close by, the "Oude Doelen", has, faithful to the tradition of the 
opulent banquets, in course of time blossomed forth into a fashionable hotel, 
the "Vieux Doelen". On the road leading to our tavern we saw on the Spui 
(then a canal) the NIEUWE KERK (New Church) — a fine building, and 



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THOM. WYCK f 1677. DREDGING-MACHINE ON THE Y. BOYMANS-MUSEUM. 

interesting on account of the construction of the roof, resting on the walls 
only — consequently a church without pillars. Here are the tombs of the eminent 
statesman JAN DE WIT, and his brother Cornelis, and of the philosopher 
BARUCH DE SPINOZA, who had spent his last days in the town, on the 
Paviljoensgracht, where now stands his bronze statue. After securing from the 
skipper of the Leyden barge a seat in his boat for the following morning, and 
enjoying our supper, the end of the day soon drew near. "Had we not seen 
the princely castle in the WESTLAND, south of the town ?" asked our host, 
"every one coming to The Hague went to see it. It was so beautifully situated 
amidst large gardens and woods — had we not seen in the morning, lying in 
the Prinsengracht, the little barges with vegetables and fruit with which the 
peasants came to market?" Jan Maertensz. replied that we could not see 
everything, and that we had to proceed on our journey the following day. 
And with this we parted. While sleep was stealing over me, I still vaguely 
thought of the Westland, and how in that selfsame district, and in a much more 
energetic manner than formerly, the cultivation of vegetables and fruit was still 
carried on ; and how the memory of Honsholredyk, the country-seat built by 
Frederik Hendrik, still survived in the name of the little village now renowned 
in the neighbourhood for its vegetable sales. W> Then I slept. Early next 
morning Jan Maertensz. and I took our seats in the barge to Leyden. The 
driver merrily trotted past alder-shrubs and pollard-willows ; past farms and 
meadows where black-and-white cattle were grazing ; past hayfields where 
now and then the tall grass, dotted yellow and white with buttercups and 



033l3i33L3t5i3l5t2l9t^^ 




J. STORCK t AFTER 1650. THE CASTLE N YENRODE ON THE VECHT. STATE MUS 



daisies, was waiting for the mowers. In other fields carts laden high with 
fragrant hay were plying to and fro ; while on some of the farms stood already 
a large rick built up under a four-posted roof. W> As far as the beautiful village 
of Voorburg, we occasionally passed a country-house surrounded by large 
gardens. At Leidschendam we had to change into another barge — then we 
again glided on between the two rustling reed-borders. The horse jogged clum- 
sily over small high bridges, and meanwhile we chatted with each other or with 
some fellow-traveller, extolling the fine day, the summer, the meadows, and 
the cattle — and thus we came nearer and nearer the town, whose towers and 
buildings ever and anon became visible at a bend of the Vliet. W> Shortly after, 
we passed between market-gardens, and presently entered the town, where 
our feet could tread the soil of the old fortress, famous for the courage with 
which, in the Eighty-years' War, commanded by the gallant VAN DER 
WERFF and VAN DER DOES, it withstood the might of Spain. The enemy 
retreated and Holland was saved by the courage of the defenders of the for- 
tress as well as by the water. Thus the tide that is for ever lapping the shores 
of Holland, as if eager to devour it, at this time proved itself a friend in need. 

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JAN STEEN t 1679. RURAL WEDDING FEAST. STATE MUSEUM AMSTERDAM. 

Before the power of the rising waters let in over the land from the Maas, the 
Spanish host was forced to flee hurriedly. And it was the water, too, that bore 
the first ships with provisions and helping friends into the famished town. The 
Vliet is still spanned by the pretty, high stone bridges under which the first 
vessel entered the town, and a bronze plate is let into the quay-side in memory 
of this joyful event. Oh, just imagine the suspense those brave men must have 
endured when looking day after day from their fortress-walls into the flat, grey, 
inundated country, where from earthen ramparts over a mile away, the grim 
cannons with their continuous dull booming, seemed to proclaim the destruction 
of the whole fortress — oh, think of the despair of those poor people cut off 
from all help, and picture their frantic joy when one day the direction of the 
wind changed, so that the sluggish waters were raised and forced through the 
broken dykes far away by the Maas, near Rotterdam — and fancy their joy 
when an orphan boy dared to go across the swampy ground to an entrench- 
ment (our barge passed close by the spot) and — a pair of sharp eyes had soon 
discerned that there was no sign of life left — found it deserted ! Think of the 



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3 










ADRIAEN VAN OSTADE. PAINTER IN HIS STUDIO. STATE MUS. AMSTERDAM. 



relief they then felt. That daredevil of a boy ! That thoroughbred Dutch urchin ! 
What was the young rascal coming back with ? A pot ? He waved his arm. 
Look at the emaciated, careworn faces of all those people flocking together — 
their dull eyes are brightened by a new hope — sure enough, a pot ! There he 
came, there he was, that brave boy. Assailed by questions on all sides. Panting 
and excited — confused and proud and laughing, "Look, they had run away; 
there was nobody left ; this pot was suspended over a smouldering fire." 
Honoured stranger, when looking at the Spanish brass pot, now kept in the 
Municipal Museum, you will know what heart-rending events are associated 
with it. And what was in it ? Well, you yourself may be able to concoct the 
dish consisting of mashed potatoes, carrots and onions, and a certain kind of 
meat ; if not, you had better come to Leyden on the third of October, where 



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PI5TER DE HOOGH f AFTER 1677. A QUIET AFTERNOON. STATE MUSEUM. 

you are sure to get "hutspot" (hodge-podge) for dinner on that memorable day. 
So many anxious hours endured thus bravely — the whole country breathed 
more freely when the Spanish troops had beaten a retreat — were rewarded 
with the establishment of the University. The town was allowed to choose 
between an exemption from taxes for many years and the founding of a Uni- 
versity. And she preferred the latter, considering the source of wisdom as a 
source of profit. On the 8 th of February the UNIVERSITY was solemnly 
inaugurated. W» Passing along the Breestraat and the TOWN-HALL — with 
its interesting front added in 1595—98 to a 14th century building by LI EVEN 
DE KEY in the style of the period — we reached a market-place by a canal, 
the New Rhine, which was crowded with people from the town and the neigh- 
bourhood. However, we did not stop here long — the chimes from the beautiful 



Town-Hall tower ringing out an old song reminded us of fleeting Time. We 
then progressed on our walk. Relentless Time has spared in this town many of 
the beautiful, ancient things for our admiring eyes and yours. The bright sun- 
shine of the radiant summer clad the old town in a youthful variegation of 
colours, so fascinating that we hardly looked at the BURCHT, the circular 
wall of a very old castle, or at ST. PANCRAS and ST. PETER's churches 
and saw none of the pictures of the celebrated Leyden masters, LUCAS VAN 
LEYDEN and Cornelis Engebrechtsz., now in the Municipal Museum, nor 
alas of the others, REMBRANDT, Dou or STEEN. A one-storey building 
having a gateway in the centre with the date 1 683 and an inscription in stone 
over the wicket-door caught my attention owing to its new masonry. "Well/' 
said I, reading the name over the entrance, "this is the JEAN PESYNHOFJE." 
It was in this place that a minister of the emigrant English Puritans used to live, 
and from here the Pilgrim Fathers undertook their journey to America ; 
nowadays a bronze plate on the church-wall close by, with a long inscription 
and a picture of the ship the Mayflower— reminds you of the departure of the 
Pilgrim Fathers and their minister. The wicket-gate was opened and I just 
caught a glimpse of a cosy courtyard, round which the houses were built that 
were given to old and poor people to live in, their board being also included. 
In nearly all Dutch towns you may find these charitable institutions of the 
fathers, with their picturesque, cosy little courtyards and house fronts. A 
minute's walk brought us to the RAPENBURG, which is even now the most 
beautiful of the canals of the town. The University; the Library of the Uni- 
versity; the Thysius-library and many other stately buildings stood in proud 
array behind the pleasant lime-trees in sweet smelling bloom, then planted on 
both sides of the water, and outlining in green the sinuous curves of the canal. 
In the afternoon while we were strolling past the Clothworkers' Hall, built in 
1640, still unchanged in appearance, but now doing duty as a MUNICIPAL 
MUSEUM- — it happened that Jan Maertensz. recognised an old friend. I am 
sorry I cannot tell you all this in detail. Well, we walked on together chatting 
cheerfully, and as we had arranged to go to Haarlem that selfsame day and the 
old gentleman intended to sail across the lake in his yacht to that town— the 
unexpected and welcome end of all this was, that some hours later I found myself 
surrounded by water, so large a sheet of water that I could see little more of 
the inhabited world than a narrow strip framing the silvery lake. "This then is 
the Haarlemmermeer," said I to myself. Aeolus puffed out his cheeks and blew 
our vessel along with ever increasing force — which Jan Maertensz. appeared not 
to notice — but not liking it so rough, I inquired whether a storm was impending. 
My host reassured me. "Although," he said, "it can be very violent here at times 
on the Haarlemmermeer. The lake is not only a great land-ravishing wolf, that 
has devoured lots of farms, entire villages even— but has also claimed a heavy toll 
of human lives in its turbulent waters." The vessel heeled over under a sudden 




P. DE HOOGH. VESTIBULE OF A STATELY HOUSE. STATE MUS. AMSTERDAM. 

. squall, so that I had some difficulty in keeping myself from gliding off my seat. 
"No," he assured me with a calm smile, "we are in no danger. My yacht is a 



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AERT VAN DER NEER. ON THE ICE NEAR A TOWN. STATE MUS. AMSTERDAM. 

steady craft— - and it is only a gust of wind." ''Make a polder of this lake !" I 
exclaimed. "How happy Jan Leeghwater would have been, if he had lived to> 
see that !" he cried, adding in answer to my question who he was. "Do you not 
know Jan Adriaensz ? They say he called himself Leeghwater (= empty water) 
because he had helped to drain so many sheets of water and convert them 
into fruitful fields. He was an extraordinary man in many ways — in the first 
place an able hydraulic engineer, besides being a land surveyor, millwright, 
bricklayer, and diver. The capabilities of this simple North-Hollander were 
appreciated far beyond the limits of Holland. Well, he was also the first to> 
make a well-weighed plan— with maps and calculations— for filling up this lake. 
Wait a minute," and the old gentleman gave the rudder to Jan Maertensz., 
dived into the little cabin, and brought forth a booklet bound in parchment, 
which he handed over to me. "Here you have his book on the Haarlemmermeer." 



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L. BAKHUYSEN. VIEW OF EGMONT AAN ZEE. STATE MUSEUM AMSTERDAM. 

I opened it. On the title-page was the date 1642. On perusing it I saw that it 
was prefaced by all sorts of testimonies written by trustworthy people regarding 
the encroachment of the water on all sides. That this was an important matter 
we, his descendants, can still better understand when reading in a calculation 
made about 1830 — '40 how, in a period of three centuries, the size of the lake 
had increased from 6000 acres to 15000 acres. It was not until the time this 
calculation was made that a complete draining of the lake was seriously con- 
sidered, and in the end undertaken. Leeghwater helped to build dykes round 
another polder, the Beemster, situated in North-Holland, the largest with the 
exception of the Haarlemmermeer. As an English writer says, the wind which 
rushes so boisterously and arrogantly into flat Holland is not the same when 
leaving the country on the other side. For before getting thus far, hundreds of 
windmills have seized it with their gigantic arms, and the Hollander does not let 
it progress on its way, before it has done its utmost to turn them all. In this 
way it had to pump an enormous volume of water in the XVIIth century— and 



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J. VAN GO YEN. THE VALKHOF AT NYMEGEN. STATE MUSEUM AMSTERDAM. 

on its journey it ran against far more windmill sails than it does now — in those 
days windmills being made use of for all sorts of industrial purposes. In the 
beginning of the XVIIth century more than half of Holland consisted of water. 
When the Eighty-years' war began, the Hollanders had not only to protect 
the country from their enemies, but had still to wrest a great portion of it from 
the waters. Our partiality for reclaiming land still survives in those daring men 
who now want to drain the great inland sea, the Zuyderzee ! I had closed my 
book and looked around— the town with St. Bavo's Church lay before us. After 
a hearty leave-taking from our friend, and a mutually expressed desire to meet 
again, we found good lodging within Haarlem's ramparts in the tavern "The 
Crowned Stork". The next day was Sunday. Wt> We stood in the market-place 
near ST. BAVO's CHURCH. The deep notes of the organ broke upon the 
peaceful morning splendour. My eyes dwelt for a moment on the picturesque 
gabled front of the BUTCHERS' HALL, built by Lieven de Key; I saw the 
TOWN HALL— nowadays the abode of FRANS HALS' masterly paintings. 
"Let us leave the town", I proposed, and we went. M> We looked down on the 
little village of Overveen— where the well-to-do inhabitants of Amsterdam had 



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JAN STEEN f 1679. PEASANTS' MERRY-MAKING MAURITSHUIS, THE HAGUE. 

their costly linen washed and bleached— and in the far distance lay Haarlem, 
dominated by great St. Bavos, standing in the centre like a guardian in shining 
armour. And over there, what was that glittering behind, and south of the 
town ? The lake, the Haarlemmermeer ! And yonder to the north ? The Y, the 
wide water which nowadays has also been converted into a large, fertile plain, 
but at that time still ate into the sand of Holland's dune line. I turned round — 

a blue strip over the undulation of the golden dunes. Was it the sky, or ? 

It was the sea ! Water, water, wherever we go ! AMSTERDAM ! the heart 
of Holland, a world of beauty rises before me when hearing that name men- 
tioned. In our days I consider Amsterdam one of the most beautiful towns on 
the Continent; but XVIIth century Amsterdam surpasses them all. The town 
which, as one of her greatest inhabitants sang, delightfully opens on the Amstel 
and the Y, was the first commercial city in Europe. Alas ! those words are no 
longer wholly applicable to the present-day city. It certainly still ranks with the 
foremost merchant towns, and is as such larger than Rotterdam, which excels 
through its shipping traffic. Do not think, however, of its commerce, but of the 



construction of the town — it does not unroll itself on the Y so grandly as it 
formerly did with its towers and forests of masts. At the time when Holland 
was not thoroughly awake from her long sleep after the battle of Waterloo, 
commercial interests (may I say misguided interests ?) counted before those of 
local beauty —indeed, her eyes were not yet quite open, for with unparalleled 
exertions an island was made in the water ; whole sand dunes were dumped into 
the waves of the Y, and on that island was erected a railway station. — the 
Central Station built by the architect who has opened a new era in Dutch ar- 
chitecture, Jos. Cuypers, the same that designed the State Museum. The part 
with which he has had most success is the roof. To the dreamer of olden time 
it is, however, a disfiguring blot. For from the Y he can see nothing of the 
town, while looking from the town side, the water once so wide and full of 
sailing craft, is entirely shut away from view. So when towards the afternoon 
we had entered through the Haarlem gate, and walked through the streets 
where nearly every house had a stone let into the front with its own peculiar 
inscription, we came to the quay along the Y, where we saw nothing but 
water and on the other side at a great distance the province of North-Hol- 
land—almost isolated from the world. Beyond lay ZAANDAM and the 
Zaan district where the shipbuilding was carried on that kept the enormous 
merchant fleet in existence. The timber and wood-sawing trades were the chief 
industries there, and hundreds of windmills flung their whirling arms aloft. We 
presently found ourselves in the old town. I cannot tell you precisely what 
streets we passed through ; moreover it matters little. Intersected as it is by 
canals, Amsterdam is an archipelago of small islands, connected with each other 
by hundreds of bridges. The principal canals all flow into the Y. In Jan 
Maertensz.'s days they were shut off from it by locks. At that time the Y, still 
untamed and in direct communication with the Zuyderzee, could be extremely 
rough. Owing to all these locks the outer side of the town presented a much 
more striking aspect than it does now. Close by was the old part of the town 
with oh, such narrow streets and tall houses — so closely united, so character- 
istic ! The Damrak, a moving mass of small cargo and fishing-boats — the 
water reached as far as the Dam, and the handsome New Exchange, built there 
in our time by H. P. Berlage, stands on drained ground. Further, in the DAM 
Square, that heavy architecture of JACOB VAN CAMPEN's grand building, 
the TOWN-HALL, resting on, can you tell me how many ? piles, driven into 
the marshy soil. It had not yet attained that mellow beauty that Time alone 
can give— nor had it yet been converted into a ROYAL PALACE. Beside it 
the splendid NEW CHURCH, where lie the remains of Holland's greatest 
admiral, de Ruyter, and its greatest poet, Voridel. And, facing the fish- 
market at the end of the Damrak, stood the Old Exchange with its back to 
the water of the Rokin. What a crowd in the courtyard after the bell had 
sounded, and what a multitude of unusual figures in long robes, from the North,, 



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JAN STEEN f 1679. ST. NICHOLAS-MORNING. STATE MUSEUM AMSTERDAM. 

or the Levant, and Asia, or from other parts. Surely Rembrandt's fantastic 
figures were to a great extent copies of living people he saw walking in the 



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M. HOBBEMA f 1709. VIEW OF MIDDELHARNIS. LONDON. NATIONAL GALLERY. 

streets, or in the courtyard of the Exchange. All those old, quiet, shady 
canals, some of them coming out so unexpectedly, in snug little squares, as for 
instance close by the beautiful OLD CHURCH. The Nieuwmarkt, near 
St.-Anthony's Weigh-House with its pretty turrets, now often the scene of a 
busy market. REMBRANDT's HOUSE, standing so empty and deserted, still 
gives you a fairly good idea of the interior, and enables you to enjoy his beau- 
tiful etchings. The KALVERSTRAAT, where lived many art-dealers and 
where could be bought engravings of Amsterdam's buildings, canals, and 
squares. The houses of the East and West India Companies ; the many chari- 
table institutions, as orphanages, hospitals, almshouses, and all those beautiful 
churches ; the merchants' houses on the three large canals— oh, I could easily 
fill a book in describing all this. But you had better come and see it for yourself, 
dear stranger ! The pictures I have selected for you will give you a faithful idea 
of the picturesqueness of the town, which is still just the same as is shown in 
them. One thing was strange— the Heerengracht, then newly constructed, 
WITHOUT the magnificent trees now standing on either side. If you should 



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AERT VAN DER NEER f 1677. MOONSHINE. STATE MUSEUM AMSTERDAM. 

ever visit this town, do not omit viewing the fine canals constructed like a 
threefold costly girdle round XVI Ith century Amsterdam. Everything lying 
farther away from the centre is of a later date. I shall not dwell upon all this any 
longer, except to just mention one name that of the town's sculptor, HEN- 
DRIK DE KEYSER, of whose industry and talent examples abound every- 
where. His last and best work was the Westerkerk (West Church), whose 
slender steeple is surmounted by the Imperial Crown which the town, in accor- 
dance with an old privilege, was entitled to bear over its coat of arms. And the 
church clock was made at the same time by my friend Leeghwater of whom 
I told you before. Jan Maertensz. walking briskly at my side, I moved through 
the crowded streets, and along the quays where barges were being unloaded 
or piled up with heavy bales which, like gigantic spiders glided down ropes 
from the high warehouses, or crawled upwards to them. At the top of many 
an Amsterdam house front you can see the short beam protrude to which this 
rope is attached. All this passed before my dream gaze. A sensation came to 
me that I was taking part in a game^as if the town was made of toy-houses 



^ 







J. v. RUISDAEL (ATTRIBUTED). LANDSCAPE WITH AN "OVERTOOM". STATE MUS. 

into which I looked from above. But then the face of Jan Maertensz. was 
again turned to me, and I walked on at his side— and he kept planting his stick 
on the ground with the same energetic assurance. Then I saw yellow leaves 
whirling along the streets. They drifted into the dark waters of the dreamy 
canals, which were becoming bare and deserted now that autumn was snatching 
from them their green and shadow-giving garlands. A feeling of fear that the 
beauty I had gazed upon would vanish from before my eyes, began to creep 
over me, but I had no time to yield to that feeling, because suddenly the old 
gentleman of the yacht appeared before us, talking and laughing with great 
vivacity. He invited us to spend the evening with him— a few foreign gentle- 
men were coming, but this was no drawback. No, no, we should be most 
pleased to come. And so it came to pass that at dusk we ascended the high 
flight of steps of a tall and narrow merchant's house. which, alongside the canal, 
craned its neck as it were high above the trees to look out over the walls into 
the wide world, and Jan Maertensz. rather heavily thumped the door-knocker. 
A maid-servant cautiously opened first the upper half of the door, and, when 
we had given our names, the lower one. And hardly had the gate of the 



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AELBERT CUYP f 1 69 1 . THE CASTLE OF LOE VESTEIN. PRINTROOM AMSTERDAM. 



merchant's castle been shut behind us when, from the darkened recess at the 
end of the dimly lighted marble corridor, emerged the white wig and the strong 
and burly figure of our host, and soon we were seated with the lady of the 
house in a small parlour in heavy arm-chairs. Leaning comfortably against the 
flowered velvet back, while Jan Maertensz. was chatting with the hostess— our 
host had left us for a minute — I looked around. §& We were in a high, narrow 
apartment hung on both sides with striped and flowered curtains, one of which 
I supposed, hid a deep window with a seat, overlooking a yard of small dimen- 
sions ; the other, a broad door-way separating this room from the one looking 
out on the canal. On the walls of embossed and gilded leather, tinted in grey, 
white, and pink, were hung some large familyportraits, whose antique costumes 
with ruffs — worn in times long past —obviously dated from the first half of 
the century. In various places were suspended chandeliers with three candles, 
between two of which hung a small mirror set in a heavy dark frame wonder- 
fully carved. My glance, wandering to the dark ceiling, was arrested by a 
painting over the mantel-piece, depicting a view of the town on the Y, and 
some allegorical figures : Mercury enthroned on bales and cases, no doubt 
filled with Indian wares. And the classical God of Commerce looked so com- 
fortable as if he intended to stay there for good, lay down his staff with the 



coiling serpents, exchange his winged shoes for a pair of slippers, and retire 
on his means in Amsterdam— not such a bad choice either. In the grate lay 
smouldering a neatly piled-up peat-fire, so that I could only partly see its 
cast iron back and the blue and yellow tiles round it. In a corner stood a 
heavy oak cupboard, from which emanated a strong scent of lavender. 1& All 
this was enveloped in the soft warm light of the twelve large tallow candles, 
with their restless tongues of flame flickering whenever the door was opened. 
And this occurred not unfrequently. First appeared two Englishmen, bringing 
a wave of cold air from outdoors into the warm room. One had a mocking 
face'— the other... I have forgotten. Next entered a Frenchman. Did I know 
Monsieur de Parival? asked our host. "Certainly", said I, and he laughed off 
his astonishment, and shook hands in a friendly manner. Everybody talked at 
once and there was a funny babel of languages in the circle of chairs round 
the fireplace — where the manservant had laid logs of wood on the half burnt 
turfs. They crackled and threw out sparks, fantastically lighting up those sitting 
around, whose laughing and talking filled the room with a noise for which it 
seemed too small. The hostess asked us to go to the larger room which, situated 
at the back of every house of any account in Amsterdam is the pride of the 
occupants and is only opened on special occasions '—the stateroom. Here a 
table spread with a tasty supper awaited us. On fine damask interwoven 
with patterns, stood Delft plates and magnificent pale green glasses, ready for 
the sparkling wine. We took our seats and ate, and drank, and talked more and 
more vivaciously, and, as was to be expected, among other things also about 
the country. When the peat-fire was stirred up by the manservant, one of the 
English gentlemen remarked, "Holland is a queer country— the elements are 
at war with each other, for the fire consumes the earth and the air the water." 
"What do you mean?" I asked. "Well, you burn the ground," pointing to the 
peat-fire, "and the ground you drain by windmills." The amused company 
commented boisterously on this witticism. After a pause, the other Englishman 
praised the town. As you know, in those days Holland was the mightiest, the 
all dominating of the Seven Provinces, the only one that was prospering and 
abounding in riches — and the centre, the essence of it all, was Amsterdam. "Is 
there anything in the Universe that you do not see in Holland ? Or in Holland 
that is not to be found in Amsterdam? Both have everything within a small 
compass", exclaimed the gentleman enthusiastically. "That used to be so in 
former times", I answered. "In former times? What do you mean?" he asked in 
astonishment. Before I had time to realise what I was saying, the first speaker 
chimed in, "In this country the ordinary beasts of burden are of wood, their 
reins are attached to their tails, and their burdens are in their insides". This 
description of the barges made Jan Maertensz. shake with laughter in his chair. 
"Seriously, what do you think of our barge service?" asked our host. "It is 
wonderful indeed", he answered. "The whole country is a garden", said the 



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PH. WOUWERMAN 1619^-1668. A COACH (fragment). MAURITSHUIS, THE HAGUE. 

first Englishman. "It is well-known that Dutch gardens are thought so much 
of in my country", said the other, "that the custom of clipping yew and box- 
trees has been carried to excess." "And you know that Holland as early as the 
XVIth century ranked foremost in the art of gardening, and became the market 
for all sorts of plants", said I. Passing from one topic to another, the conver- 
sation turned to social questions and the general freedom of thought and speech 
which existed to a great degree in Amsterdam. "The best thing of all", said 
Monsieur de Parival, "is in my opinion the personal freedom that you value 
so much. Women have as much freedom as men, and you are not allowed to 
beat them, any more than your manservant or maid". Really, I thought, you 
seem to be accustomed to a different state of affairs. "It is wonderful", he 
remarked a moment later, "what pleasure and pride Dutch women take in keep- 
ing their houses clean and tidy". "Yes", interrupted the wag, "and everything 
shines here as if inlaid with diamonds, and the door-knocker and the bell-handle 
glitter as if rust could not affect metal here. And the floor you are only allowed 
to walk on in your stockings, and woe betide you if you spit on it". "Spit on 



it?" exclaimed the hostess horrified, shaking her finger at him," and you were 
the one who said the other day that we Dutch were born before good manners 
existed on earth." "In any case, Madam, you are of a very old race," he said 
laughing. I expected some allusion to Eve and her charms, but it turned out 
otherwise. "No doubt it was your race Solomon meant", he continued, "when 
he said that about those small creatures". "Go on please! Which creatures, 
Sir? What did he say?" several voices exclaimed at the same time, as he 
stopped for a moment. "Well", he said, "Solomon mentions four things as 
being small, but full of wisdom: the ant, the rabbit, the locust, and the spider. 
The Dutch are the ants of the world. Possessing nothing but what the grass 
gives them, their country is notwithstanding the mart for all merchandise of 
the whole Christian world. The towns are their ants' nests where they go in 
and out (he meant in barges) so as to provide themselves with food. In their 
dwellings they are real rabbits, ever burrowing in the ground, with this dif- 
ference that the rabbits alluded to in the Book of Proverbs find the rocks, while 
the Hollanders make them. They raise them up from the waves of the Beemster. 
There where once their ships cleaved the trackless waters, the peaceful plough 
now cleaves the fertile earth. They are locusts with regard to war, inasmuch 
as there is no country in Europe that can furnish a better school for learning 
the art of war than Holland. As manufacturers they are spiders, and they 
live in palatial mansions. Their merchants are the first of the world (with a bow 
to the host). Where is the country that they have not penetrated, that they have 
not dissected, of which they have not found the inner veins? Into everything 
they do, they put every ounce of energy they have in their bodies." We had 
listened to all this with ever increasing gaiety, and laughing heartily, we raised 
our glasses to drink to this fine oration. All at once I was seized with a strange 
dizziness, the room and the lively faces with their expressions of joyous hilarity 
became blurred. I made a last effort to say something to Jan Maertensz. For 
a moment it was as if they were all talking from a distance, then a ray of 
bright daylight fell across me— and still laughing I awoke. It was but a dream, 

MY JOURNEY THROUGH OLD-HOLLAND! BUT THIS I 

CAN TELL YOU, DEAR READER, THE BEAUTIFUL 

COUNTRY OF THE PRESENT DAY, WHERE 

THE OLD-DUTCH ENERGY IS NEWLY 

AWAKENED IS JUST AS 

WORTHY OF YOUR 

ATTENTION. ' 



GOOD-BYE! 



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HOLLAND-AMERICA LINE m, REGULAR g 
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with Call at PLYMOUTH (London) and BOULOGNE-SUR-MER (Paris). 

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TWIN-SCREW STEAMSHIP ^NEW AMSTERDAM 1 

Registered tonnage 17.250 Displacement 31 

TWIN-SCREW STEAMSHIP ENOORDAMI 



Registered tonnage 12.531 

TWIN-SCREW STEAMSHIP 

Registered tonnage 12.537 

TWIN-SCREW STEAMSHIP I 

Registered tonnage 12.606 



Displacement 22 

fcRYNDAMS 

Displacement 22 

POTSDAMI 

Displacement 22 



000 tons 

190 tons 

% 

000 tons 

% 

070 tons 

% 

070 tons 

070 tons 



SQ^^^J^^JS^J^^ 6i CC^^GVG^^^VCG^u 



All steamers are of enormous tonnage, as may be judged from the above 
figures ; they are splendidly equipped for the safety and comfort of passengers 
and are provided with the latest improvements, having bilge-keels, superb 
decks, halls, saloons and large staterooms Marconi wireless telegraph, sub- 
marine signal receiving apparatus, etc. 

S NEW YORK^ROTTERDAM-TO CEN- 
tral EUROPE.^-THE NEW YORK-ROTTERDAM SERVICE OF 
the Holland- America Line established more than a quarter of a century ago, 
represents one of the great highways of the Atlantic. — Beginning with the 
modest steamers of the earlier years, it has since developed into a truly 
perfect passenger service, with a fleet of steamships of gigantic size, equipped 
with every device of known merit tending to insure the safety of passengers, 
at the same time providing all the luxury, comfort, steadiness and efficiency 
of present day requirements. — Of this fleet, the ocean giants STATENDAM 
(building), ROTTERDAM and NEW AMSTERDAM, rank foremost among 
the great ocean carriers while the palatial twin-screw steamships NOOR- 
DAM, RYNDAM, and POTSDAM are steamers of the type which appeals 
to the discriminating ocean traveller. — For visitors to Holland— the pictur- 
esque old land of beauty and quaintness, of canals and windmills, of history, 
of romance, and of art— this New York-Rotterdam route is the most direct 
and convenient. Proceeding from Holland, the capitals and places of interest 
of several European countries are within easy reach, by means of excellent 
through train connection from Rotterdam and other points. 

S NEW YORK^PLYMOUTH-NEW SER~ 

VICE TO LONDON.-FOR THE CONVENIENCE OF THE 
HOLLAND-AMERICA LINE'S patrons, who wish to land at an English 
port, the service from NEW YORK to PLYMOUTH has recently been 
established. — This new service is maintained with the two largest of the 
Holland-America Line's steamships, the gigantic ROTTERDAM and NEW 
AMSTERDAM, two steamers of proven worth, and singularly complete in 
all matters governing the welfare and safety of our patrons. The placing 
on the direct New York-Plymouth (Eastbound) route of these steamships 
with their magnificent appointments, their excellent cuisine, and most effi- 
cient service, has met with the unqualified approval of those of our patrons 
who desire to commence their European trip in Great Britain. The traveller 
to London will find the advantages of this route equal to the best offered. 
Upon arrival in Plymouth Sound, the passengers are transferred by a 



<a 



large steam tender and after a cursory examination of their luggage, they 
are carried to London (Paddington Station), by special steamer train, or by 



regular fast train, according to the number of passengers booked through. 



NEW YORK^BOULOGNE^SUR^MER 

TO PARIS OR LONDON. ^-THE NEW YORK-BOULOGNE-SUR- 

MER service of the Holland-America Line, is eminently "The Paris Route". 
Maintained with a fleet of gigantic steamships, safe and efficient in the highest 
degree, it offers all the advantages of luxuries, comfort and cuisine, which it 
is possible on the ocean to offer, besides, it lands one within the shortest 
possible distance from Paris, a distance of three hours by special or fast train. 
The New York-Boulogne-sur-Mer service is a regular weekly service 
maintained with the magnificent ocean giants ROTTERDAM and NEW 
AMSTERDAM and the palatial twin-screw steamships NOORDAM, 
RYNDAM, and POTSDAM. — Vestibuled and well-equipped steamer trains 
between Boulogne-sur-Mer and Paris, run all the year round in connection with 
the sailings and arrivals of the ROTTERDAM and NEW AMSTERDAM, 
and throughout the travelling season in connection with the sailings and 
arrivals of the other steamers. — From Boulogne-sur-Mer, the distance to 
London is only three and onehalf hours by steamer and rail with frequent 
connections daily. 

FOR GENERAL INFORMATION, ILLUSTRATED BOOK- 
LETS, RATES, SAILINGS, PLANS, ETC. APPLY TO 

HO LL AN D^AM E RIC A LINE 

CABLE ADDRESS: 

NEW YORK CITY. 39 broadway m> netherland 

CHICAGO, ILL. 145 N. DEARBORN STR. ^NETHERLAND 

BOSTON, MASS. 84 state street m m, m delta 

ST. LOUIS, MO. COR. LOCUST and 9th STR. Sfc CAMERA 

S. FRANCISCO, CAL. 319 geary street m,m,m, 
MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. 121 so. third street » 
NEWORLEANS,LA. 219 st. charlesstr.^>nether- 
TORONTO, CAN. 40 Toronto street m, m, [-land 
MONTREAL, CAN. 286 st. james street m m, m, m. 
HAVANA, CUBA. 278 apartado m, m, m, m. dussaq 



FOR THIS BOOKLET IS USED THE ORIGINAL HOLLAND-MEDIAEVAL TYPE 

DESIGNED BY S. H. DE ROOS AND CAST BY THE AMSTERDAM TYPEFOUNDRY 

LATE N. TETTERODE AT AMSTERDAM. 



LiianMMY Uh UUNGHESS 



029 999 393 




